


we go where our hearts lead us

by TheGodofSmut



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Suicide Squad (Comics), Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blow Jobs, Bottom Bruce Wayne, Bottom Joker (DCU), Bottom Lex, Bottom Waylon Jones, Deepthroating, F/F, Feelings, Feels, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gay Sex, Gentle Kissing, Joker (DCU) Angst, Kissing, Love Bites, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Love, Making Out, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Pining Joker (DCU), Protective Bruce Wayne, Rough Kissing, Rough Sex, Sleepy Cuddles, Sleepy Kisses, Tender Sex, Tenderness, Top Bane (DCU), Top Clark Kent, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-25
Updated: 2020-06-23
Packaged: 2021-01-03 06:41:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 6,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21175097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGodofSmut/pseuds/TheGodofSmut
Summary: A collection of self-indulgent DC ships





	1. i don't need a hero - Superbat

The Joker had just escaped Arkham Asylum and Bruce was immediately on the hunt for the mad clown. With the help of Oracle, he had tracked the Joker down all the way back to his old hideout, an abandoned (more like seized by the Joker) amusement park. Bruce didn’t see him when he arrived so he wandered around the amusement park in hopes of baiting the Joker to come out. It didn’t take long, however; the Joker was sitting on a horse in the carousel, waiting for when Bruce would show up and start their dance, as he calls it.

“Joker,” Bruce said to announce his presence. The clown heard him and grinned that the bat had come.

“Batsy! I was beginning to think you weren’t going to come,” he said. Bruce didn’t respond so he continued. “What, no kisses for your darling Joker?”

Bruce, ignoring that last comment, said, “You’re going back to Arkham, Joker.”

Joker’s smile turned malicious and he hopped off the horse, pulling out a pistol from his jacket. “I’d like to see you try.”

Bruce scowled and lunged forward at the clown, his cape spreading out like wings behind him. He landed a right hook on the Joker’s cheek, sending him stumbling backwards. The Joker wiped the blood from his mouth and aimed the pistol at Bruce. Bruce dodges the first shot but his arm is grazed by the second, tearing the suit. Thankfully, the bullet wasn’t in his arm. He kneed the clown in the stomach and knocked the pistol out of his hand.

“Joker, that’s enough!” He yelled. 

“C’mon, Bats, we both know it ain’t over until you beat me black and blue,” Joker said, putting up his fists. Bruce charged, knocking the clown to the ground and wrapping his hands around his throat. 

“H-Harder...” The Joker gasped. Bruce punched him in response and he spat blood. 

“It’s. _Over.”_ Bruce said sternly. 

“It's over...when I say it's over, Bats…” Joker rasped out. He reached into his jacket, taking out a long knife, and impaled Bruce in the side. Then he kicked Bruce off and scrambled back like a rabid animal. 

Bruce grunted in pain as he slowly pulled out the knife from his body and threw it to the ground. Joker dove for the knife but Bruce tackles him before he can touch it. They wrestle on the ground, both of them kicking and punching each other. They get tired, but Bruce musters up the energy to finish it with a clean swing to the Joker’s chin. He struggled to get up, dragging the beaten clown by the collar to the Batmobile so he'll be put back in Arkham, at least for now. 

Later at Wayne Manor after Alfred had cleaned his wounds, sewed them, and explicitly told him to relax, Bruce does the exact opposite by lifting weights in the Batcave and his defense to being caught is “that this is relaxing”. So Alfred kicked him out of the Batcave and Bruce wandered to his parents’ bedroom and stood on the balcony. 

He looked down at the garden below, old memories of him helping his mother plant peonies and garden roses coming back to him. Now it’s him and Alfred who take care of the garden. He heard a gust of wind behind him and without turning around he announced, “Were you trying to sneak up on me, Clark?”

“More or less,” Clark said, hovering in the air. 

“Well you’re doing a horrible job at it,” Bruce said, turning his head to look at the Kryptonian. 

“I really missed that personality of yours, Bruce,” Clark said, floating to the ground and approaching him. Bruce turned around fully to welcome Clark’s warm embrace and soft lips. When they break away, Clark looked at him with visible concern.

“My God, Bruce, what happened?” He asked.

“Joker happened. Don’t worry, I’m fine.”

“You are _not_ fine, Bruce. I think you need to take it easy.”

“I think I can handle it,” Bruce said matter-of-factly. 

Clark wasn’t buying it. “Yes, Bruce, but what are you going to do when you can’t?”

“I have contingency plans.”

“And what if-”

“Kal-el.” 

Clark stopped talking; Bruce only calls him by his true name when he’s being serious or upset. “I-I’m sorry. I just don’t know- what with you being human and all- what I’d do if anything ever happened to you…”

“Clark, look at me,” Bruce said in his stern voice. He brought his hands up to caress Clark’s face. “You know the things I’ve been through. And you know that I got through them. So no matter what, I’m going to get through this.”

“But-” 

“I don’t need you to be my hero, Clark. I can take care of myself. What I need you to be is...my boy scout. I need you to trust me on this, Clark.”

There were tears streaming down Clark’s face and he cracked a smile. “Ah geez, Bruce, you're bringing that silly nickname back?”

"Yeah, I guess I am. It's always stuck with me," Bruce chuckled, running his fingers through Clark's curly hair. “Wipe your eyes, you’re crying again.” 

“I like crying…” Clark said as he wiped the tears away. He leaned into Bruce’s touch and kissed his wrist. 

“I know.” 


	2. stay in tonight - Superbat

It’s two in the morning. Bruce hasn’t been able to fall asleep yet. 

He threw off his blanket, welcoming the cool air to his bare chest. He looked to his left; Clark was sleeping peacefully, curled up in their blanket and hiding his face underneath. Bruce wondered what he’s dreaming about, hopefully pleasant things. He slowly got out of bed, making sure not to wake Clark up as he tiptoed across the floor. He manages to get just by the bedroom door when he heard Clark call out for him. 

“Bruce? What’re you doing…it’s not even dawn yet…” He mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“I thought you wouldn’t hear me,” Bruce said as he went to Clark’s side of the bed.

“I have really good hearing powers…” Clark yawned.

“I can’t sleep,” Bruce said softly, stroking Clark’s hair and sitting beside him. “I thought maybe I could do some patrolling.”

“Then I’ll stay up with you.” He attempted to sit up and pressed his face against Bruce’s shoulder, wrapping his bulky arms around him.

“You’re tired, Clark.“

“No, I’m not…I’m…awake…”

Bruce smiled and rested his chin on top of Clark’s head. “You don’t sound like it, Clark.” 

“You underestimating me again?” Clark laughed softly. 

Bruce let out a chuckle. “Maybe I am.” 

“Bruce?”

“Yes, Clark?”

“Stay in tonight. Please?” 

Bruce looked off to the other side of the bedroom. “I…still have to go on patrol.” 

Clark moved so he can look at the other man with his half-lidded eyes and turned Bruce's face toward his. “Bruce.” His soft, tired voice sent a chill down Bruce’s spine. 

“Please stay in,” he pleaded. 

"Okay, but just this time.” Bruce sighed. Clark kissed him on his jawline as a gratitude and rested his head on his shoulder. 

"You know, you really...ought to get a more stable sleeping schedule..." Clark muttered tiredly, burying his face into the crook of Bruce's neck.

"I know." Bruce replied. 


	3. heartbeat - Superbat

Oh, what a day. With the hassle from his job and being heckled by some petty thugs - of course, he had no trouble taking care of them - all Bruce wanted to do was have a nice, relaxing bath. Or so he thought he would. 

“Mind if I join you, Clark?” He asked when he appeared in the bathroom, loosening his necktie. The Kryptonian was lying in the bathtub with his head resting against the rim. The tub was filled to the brim with foamy bubbles and both of his arms were draped over the rim. 

“Bruce? I thought you were at a meeting,” Clark said, sitting forward. Beads of water slid down the grooves of his back in wavering trails. 

“Turns out the executive chairman couldn't come in today,” Bruce replied, unbuttoning his shirt and exposing his toned chest. He hung his shirt on the back of the bathroom door. 

“Well it’s good to see you.” Clark smiled as Bruce pulled down his pants. “Are you seriously getting in?” 

“When am I not serious?” Bruce asked with a smug grin as he dropped his boxers on the floor. He sat on the rim of the bathtub and scooped a lump of bubbles into his hand. Then he slapped it onto Clark’s head. 

“Hey, what was that for?” Clark laughed as he wiped the bubbles off his face. 

“I just felt like doing it,” Bruce answered with a smile, peeling his socks off and dipping his feet into the water. He extended his hand out to touch Clark’s face, brushing his knuckles over Clark’s cheekbone. Clark took Bruce’s hand and gently tugged his arm. 

“Get in,” he said softly.

Bruce knelt down and sat at the other end of the tub, his muscular legs rested on top of Clark’s. Clark reached his arms out to bring Bruce closer to him, kissing Bruce’s lips tenderly. Bruce kissed back and ran his fingers through Clark’s curly hair. 

Clark moaned softly when Bruce bit his bottom lip; he could feel Bruce’s hot, excited breath hitch as he slipped his tongue past the billionaire's teeth. His back is pushed against the side of the tub by Bruce, who climbs over him and sits in his lap. 

“Are you sure you want to do this right now, Bruce?” Clark whispered as the other leaves firm kisses on his cheek and neck. “It’s just that…well I heard water isn’t a very good lubricate.” 

“Do you wanna try on the floor this time?” Bruce asked. 

“Won’t that cause a big wet mess?” 

“We’ll clean it up afterwards.” 

“Wrap your arms around me,” Clark politely commanded. Bruce obeyed and the Kryptoniam picked him up, cradling his arms around Bruce's butt. He stepped out of the tub onto the mint green bathmat and set Bruce on his feet. Bruce pulled him in, his pale scarred lips pressing against Clark’s soft pink lips.

Clark ran his hands down Bruce’s wet skin, stopping at his lower midsection. He squeezed Bruce’s ass with one hand and fondled his cock with the other hand. Bruce groaned and grabbed Clark’s hand, guiding him where he wants to be touched. Clark can hear his heartbeat; a slow, steady drumming that thumps in the back of his mind. He’s never told Bruce but he loves his heartbeat. He tries to signal it out of the world’s sounds whenever he’s stressed and Bruce isn’t with him. He’s sure Bruce knows anyways; Bruce always knows. 

He tells him anyway. 

“I…didn’t think you listened to my heart,” Bruce mumbled, gazing into the Kryptonian’s ice blue eyes. “Sometimes I wonder what yours sounds like.” 

“You don’t have to wonder,” Clark replied, pressing his forehead against Bruce’s. He places the billionaire’s hand over his chest and Bruce looked at him when he felt the heartbeat. “I know you can’t _hear_ it, but…” 

“Clark,” Bruce whispered. “Get the lube.” 

“R- Right,” Clark replied. He opened the cabinet and grabbed a tube of silicone-based lubricant and glanced at the condoms. “Should we use condoms this time?”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Bruce answered enthusiastically as he sat down on the bathroom floor. 

Clark nodded, taking a condom from the cabinet. He sat across from him and coaxed the billionaire to lay on his back. He spread Bruce’s legs apart and lowered his head to kiss his inner thigh. He slowly made a trail of kisses towards the base of Bruce’s throbbing cock and licked the shaft in broad, steady strokes. 

Bruce ran his fingers through Clark’s fluffy, dark hair and relaxed, letting Clark take care of him. Clark always knows how to take care of him. That’s why he loves him, because Clark always catches him when he’s falling. He groaned when the Clark pushed his head all the way down, taking every inch of him into his mouth. Clark doesn’t have a gag reflex, and Bruce found out the hard way the first time he went down on him. 

Clark lifted his head up, his lips making a soft ‘pop’ when he let go of Bruce’s cock. He looked up at Bruce with those innocent blue eyes.

“Finger me,” Bruce demanded breathlessly.

Clark squirted the lube into his hand and slathered it on his fingers. He slipped one finger inside Bruce, then another finger. He scissored them, slowly at first so he doesn’t tear Bruce’s muscles. It’s only when the billionaire grabs his wrist and pushes his fingers deeper that he touches Bruce’s prostate. He rubbed his cock with his free hand, smearing the precum leaking from the tip on his shaft.

“Do you like that?” Clark asked. He can tell Bruce likes it from the rate of his heart but he’d rather hear Bruce say it himself. 

“Yes,” Bruce moaned, arching his back when Clark curved his fingers. 

“Do you wanna start or should we do more foreplay?” 

“I want to start.” 

Clark takes his fingers out and squeezed a sparing amount of lube into his hand, then rubs it onto his cock. He teared open the condom’s wrapper and rolled it over his shaft. He read somewhere that putting some lube in a condom would make it feel better. Clark pulled the billionaire’s ass towards him, fingers gripping the tight muscles. He pressed his cock into Bruce, who promptly lets out a groan as Clark’s swollen cock engorged him. He set Bruce’s legs over his thighs and Bruce locked his legs around his waist. 

Clark knows he’s seen Bruce lying beneath him before, but it just gets him every time that it’s _Bruce_ who is lying beneath him. He never thought he’d make love to Bruce Wayne - the man he knows as _Batman_ \- in a million years. Technically speaking, why would-

“Clark. Start moving.” 

Bruce’s voice brought Clark out of his head. He chuckled and starts rolling his hips. He feels Bruce clench around his cock and saws his eyes flutter in bliss. He bent over to place a tender kiss on Bruce's lips. 

_“Harder,_ Clark,” the billionaire pleaded against his lips. 

"Are you sure?”

Bruce nods desperately. 

Clark sighed and sat back, letting Bruce climb onto his lap and set his own pace. Clark only meets him on each thrust down with a buck of his hips that makes Bruce’s head roll back and moan. Clark took the opportunity to litter his neck with kisses and suck bruises onto his skin. 

“Can you hear my heartbeat, Clark?” Bruce asked, reaching up to grab his hair. Clark focused on it. It’s rapid; it mirrors the sound of an anxious man drumming his fingers as he waits for something horrible. 

Bruce’s thighs tremble as he started to reach his climax. He impulsively pulled at Clark’s hair and gasped, cumming onto both of them after he slams down on Clark’s cock, with Clark bucking his hips one more time. 

Clark hasn’t came yet, but Bruce always knows how to finish what he starts. So he waits patiently for Bruce to gain his energy, something he has no problem doing for the billionaire. As Ma always says: “patience is a virtue.” 

Bruce exhaled and strands of damp hair fell in his eyes when he looked down so Clark swept them back into their place. The billionaire grabbed his wrist and placed Clark’s hand over his heart while also placing his hand over Clark’s heart. 


	4. the development of a beautiful relationship - Banecroc

“Are you sure that no one can see us?” Bane asked with a breathless whisper when Croc tenderly grabbed his hand. 

“This area’s a blind spot to the cameras,” he mumbled and placed his other hand on Bane’s cheek and the luchador wrestler pressed his face into Croc’s palm. The crocodile man looked tentatively at him as his fingers caressed the edge of Bane’s mask. “Can I…?” 

“Are you sure you want to see my face, _cariño?”_ Bane asked with a soft melancholy. 

“I dream about seeing your face every night and it gives me chills, babe,” Croc replied. “To know that if I ever saw it for real, I would never forget it.”

Bane peeled off his mask, revealing the rich brown skin underneath. A worn face, built with a strong jaw and angry brown eyes. Small pink scars were scattered from the chin up to the corner of the eyebrows, each one from their own battles. The hair was short, shaved down to the skin and the color of tobacco. 

Croc was amazed, to say the least. 

“Ah, you must think I look weird,_ mijo.”_ Bane hid his face behind his large hand, his cheeks turning a lovely shade of red. 

“No no, you look- you look really cool, babe…” Croc said as he took his hand away from his face and intertwined their fingers. “It means a lot that you would let me see your beautiful face.” 

“You’re just saying that!” Bane laughed. It was a genuine laugh that made Croc laugh with him.

“No, it’s true! I could stare at that face for all eternity.” 

“You’re making me blush, _mi amor.” _

“Good.” 

“Do you know any poetry?” 

“Yes.”

“Can you tell me one?” 

Croc chuckled nervously. “At the touch of love, everyone becomes a poet. That’s...that's from Plato.” 

“Ah _mijo,_ I bet you don’t even know any poems,” Bane said with a loving sigh. 

“Except I made you one.” Croc objected. He pulled out a tiny piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Bane. 

_“The world could take away from me  
_

_My hopes, my dreams, m_ _y will and my strength,_

_But I’ll be damned if the world thinks_

_That it can take you away from me”_

Bane stared at the little paper, his angry eyes turning soft, and he folded the paper and stuck it into his pocket. He wrapped his large arms around Croc’s neck and Croc brought his arms around Bane’s back. The two of them sit in comfortable silence holding each other. 


	5. Nygmobblepot request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> chierei from Tumblr asked: Nygmobblepot #14: “There’s a difference between being brave and being stupid."

“Edward, I hope you realize how incredibly dangerous things would’ve been if I hadn’t gotten there in time,” Oswald said as he wiped the blood from Edward’s nose and lips. 

“I only miscalculated the risks,” Edward replied, wincing as his wounds were dabbed with rubbing alcohol. 

“Miscalculated or not, there’s a difference between being brave and being stupid! You’re not stupid, Ed, so don’t act stupid!” Oswald scolded.

“Are you saying that I’m brave then?” He asked, smiling at him. 

Oswald’s cheeks flushed a lovely shade of red. “This is me yelling at you for acting stupid!” 

“But you didn’t say no.” 

“Fine, you were a brave little boy scout. How I wept and swooned over you and your undaunted glory,” Oswald said sarcastically. 

“What costs nothing but is worth everything, weighs nothing but lasts a lifetime, that one person can’t own but two can share?” Edward asked. 

Oswald blinked and replied, “It’s love. But hang on, why are you asking that?” 

“Because I did this for you, Oswald. I am in complete and utter love with you and everything you are.” 

Oswald sputtered as he searched for the right words. “You- You really mean that?”

“Every word.” Edward answered truthfully. 

“I didn’t think you felt that way, Ed,” he said. 

“I didn’t want you to know because I was afraid you would reject me.”

Oswald reached up to hold Edward’s face. “I could _never_ reject you, Edward Nygma.” He threw his arms around Edward’s neck, accidentally bumping his glasses. Edward pressed his face into the crook of Oswald’s neck, fixed his glasses, and wrapped his arms around Oswald's back. 


	6. Batjokes request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> comedIan from Tumblr asked: "19. “Like I’d choose the laws of physics over you.” Joker and Bats"

“What is wrong with you?!" Bruce yelled as he tended to the Joker's broken leg and twisted arm. "Do you realize how deep a fall that was? You could have been _killed,_ J.” 

“I saw you perfectly jump that gap, Brucie, so I figured _‘Hey, if Bats can do it, why can’t I’?”_ Joker asked, turning his head to smile feebly at Bruce. 

“You didn’t spend twelve years training yourself to your physical max,” Bruce countered, throwing him a stern look. 

“Did you forget how many times you yourself have been in a cast, my dear?” 

“Because I don’t matt-” Bruce halts when he sees the Joker’s eyes widen with anticipation for Bruce to finish that statement. “I mean, because I do everything I can to protect Gotham. I don’t want to think about losing you.” 

“Hey, I’m here, I’m alive. That should be enough.” Joker scoffed. “God wishes he could kill me.” 

“But what about when it _isn’t enough, _John? Why can’t you think about the laws of physics and your own safety for once?” Bruce asked, grabbing Joker’s good hand and squeezing it. 

“Like I’d choose the laws of physics over you, baby.” Joker chuckled. “I told you once and I’ll say it again: I can take it. Why else do you think we still have our little dances? It’s about the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins as you forget about any concern for your well-being and you lose yourself in the moment. You understand what I mean.” 

And Bruce hates to admit that he understands. He hates that he enjoys that rush, hates that he _craves_ it. He sighed and planted a kiss on the clown’s forehead. “Just…take it easy until you can walk again, okay?” 

“No promises, Bats.” 


	7. a crocodile's confession of love - Banecroc

Today was the day that Croc was going to confess to Bane. He had been thinking about for an entire month now, contemplating what he’d say…how he’d say it…how Bane would react. It intimidated him but he was going to go through with his plan no matter what. He had asked Bane to meet him during lunchtime and to convince the guards to let him go to Croc’s cell. It was a big favor to ask for but he hoped that Bane wouldn’t let him down. 

It was lunchtime. Croc had already been visited by one of the staff who dropped a hunk of raw beef into his cell through a special chute. He hadn’t eaten it yet. 

Five minutes have passed and Bane had not come down yet. He wondered if the luchador wrestler remembered his request. He should’ve wrote it on a note instead of telling him. As Croc waited for Bane to arrive, he reached over to his record player and placed a record on the track. It had a piece of masking tape, worn down from the humidity, labelled in red permanent marker as “songs to listen to with Bane”. 

Eight minutes have passed and Croc was getting increasingly anxious. The third song of the record had just finished. The raw meat sat in his hands, uneaten, begging for attention. Croc heard his stomach rumble. He dropped the meat and pulled his knees up to his chest, staring at his reflection in the water. 

Ten minutes have passed. He was wondering whether or not this was actually worth it. Who would want to spend lunch down in the sewer with the ugly crocodile man anyways. He might as well just forget about it. 

“Ay, _mijo!_ Are you down here?” Bane called out. 

Croc perked up, shocked that the man had come. “Y- Yeah, I’m down here!” 

“Oh, it stinks down here, _amigo!_ You should really get some candles or something.” Bane laughed, a mighty booming sound that erupted from his chest. 

“Ah, shuddap and come sit with me,” Croc replied with a relieved smile. 

“You haven’t eaten your lunch, _mijo._ You always eat right away,” Bane commented as he sat down next to the crocodile man on the cold, damp stone. 

“I- I was waitin’ for you to come…” 

_“Lo siento._ The guard was being a dick, you see- I had to put a little fright in him so he would let me leave.” Bane laughed again. “You should’ve seen the look on his face, _mijo-_ he looked like he was going to shit himself!” 

“Yeah, you are pretty scary.” Croc agreed with a nervous chuckle.

“Why the anxious face, _mijo?”_ Bane asked calmly. 

“I jus’ have a lot on my mind.” 

“Care to share what’s bothering you?” 

Croc felt his stomach drop and reached over to grab the uneaten cow. Through a mouthful of raw meat he said, “I dunno.” On the inside, his feelings were trying to claw their way out. 

“You and I both know that is a lie, _mijo,”_ Bane said, putting his large hand on top of Croc’s knee. “Come, tell your _amigo_ what’s wrong.” 

Croc swallowed thickly and stared at the hand on his leg and everything within him was screaming to take it and weave their fingers together. He didn’t. He clasped his hands together and twiddled his thumbs nervously. “I- I’ve been thinkin’ ‘bout this for a while now…I dunno, I can’t-” 

Bane interrupted him with a sharp shush. “Yes you can. Take a deep breath and let it out, _mijo.”_

So Croc breathed in and let the writhing feelings inside squirm their way out. “I like you.” 

Bane sat there silently and Croc sat there silently until there was a muffled chuckle from Bane’s lips. The muffled chuckling turned into the booming laughter that Croc was used to hearing but he didn’t laugh with him. 

_“Mijo,_ that’s it?” He asked. 

“Y- Yeah…” Croc turned away, regretting why he even said it. 

_“Waylon.”_ Bane firmly placed his hand on Croc’s shoulder. “You have nothing to be ashamed of, _mijo._ I knew that you like me. I am laughing because you hadn’t noticed it yet.” 

Croc was confused. “Noticed what?” 

_“Mijo_ is a Spanish pet name.” 

“Oh. No, I knew that but I jus’ thought you were bein’ friendly.”

“Waylon. I like you, too.” 

“You’re jus’ sayin’ that.” 

“No, _mijo,_ it’s true. I could sit here and list all the reasons that I like you if you want me to.” 

Croc perked up. “Go on.” 

And Bane did. It was a beautiful list that made Croc’s eyes glisten. 

“You’re one of the few people I can even tolerate, _mijo._ You always listen with such enthusiastic ears.” He said tenderly. 

“It’s only ‘cause I like listenin’ to you.” Croc hesitantly reached for Bane’s hand. “So does this mean we can…”

_“Sí, mijo,”_ Bane replied as he put his hand on Croc’s, rubbing his calloused thumb over the leathery skin. “I would like that.”


	8. anatomy - Banecroc

“Waylon, I have a serious question for you,” Antonio stated when he walked into the living room. He had just gotten out of the shower, not wearing his mask and his hair glistening and wet. He clutched the small towel around his waist with one big hand. Waylon was laying on the couch, his long legs resting over the armrest as he read his book. Antonio glanced at the cover_. Mrs. Caliban. _He disregarded it and focused on the reason why he came to the living room. _“_Waylon!_” _

Waylon looked up, closing the book but leaving his thumb in between the pages. “Hm?” 

“What is between your legs?” 

Waylon was, to say the least, flabbergasted by such an unexpected question. He opened his mouth, then closed it, contemplating how to respond to this. He finally answered with, “Whatcha asking for?” 

“Because, Waylon, _soy humano y tú eres un cocodrilo._ We do not have the same anatomy, _mi amor_,” Antonio replied. “But, quite frankly, I would love to know what is in your pants.” 

Waylon was silent for a few moments, then he began to laugh. Antonio stood there stiffly, his teeth clenched and his cheeks flushed red. The crocodile man calmed down and grinned toothily at Antonio. “Drop the towel then.” 

_“¿Qué?”_

“You wanna know what’s in my pants? Take off your towel, I’m gonna show ya.”

“Wait, you mean we are going to...?” Antonio asked, confirming what he had thought the crocodile man meant. 

“Well how else am I supposed to show ya?” Waylon retorted, as if it was the most obvious thing. 

“Alright, fine. But I get to top. There is no way I could bottom.” 

“And what makes you think _I’ll_ bottom for ya so easily?” Waylon eyed Antonio and Antonio smirked at him.

“You forget who I am, _mi amor._ I am _el luchador._ I could easily pin you down,” he said. 

“You forget that I used to wrestle gators twice your size, babe,” Waylon sneered. 

“Why don’t you put your strength where your mouth is, then?” 

“Why don’t I jus’ put my mouth where your cock is, then?” 

“That is a lovely thought, Waylon, but your sharp teeth would not do any good,” Antonio said as he sat beside him. 

“Don’t need teeth,” Waylon replied, sticking out his long, pink tongue. 

Antonio laughed, a genuine, hearty sound that Waylon loved to hear. He looked at the other with a smile. “I would love to know how your tongue feels, _mi amor.”_

“Same to you,” Waylon said, sitting up to bring Antonio closer to him. Antonio gladly complied, scooting as close as possible toward him. Waylon set his book on the table and embraced him. He pressed his forehead against Antonio's and placed his large scaly hands on his waist. Despite how they looked, Waylon’s hands were actually smooth, like warm leather, and after Antonio showed him a nail clipper, he kept all his claws trimmed now. 

Antonio chuckled. _“Dame un beso, por favor.” _

Waylon obeyed and pressed his lips against Antonio’s. Kissing was never easy for them; Waylon’s teeth always poked at Antonio’s lips, and Antonio’s mouth was too small compared to Waylon’s. Nonetheless, it didn’t bother either of them at all. 

Antonio left a trail of kisses along Waylon’s jaw and the crocodile man gave him an affectionate lick on the cheek. His hands ran down Waylon’s chest and he wrapped his arms around while Waylon reached up to hold Antonio’s cheeks.

“Did I ever tell you you look good without your mask? ‘Cause you do,” Waylon purred. 

“Yes, I’ve heard you tell me a thousand times, _mi amor.”_ Antonio chuckled. 

“And I’ll tell you a thousand more times, too.” 

Antonio smiled and pushed Waylon onto his back. He moved on top of him and straddled his waist. He could feel Waylon’s hands twitching against his skin, so he threw his bath towel onto the floor and guided Waylon’s hands to his cock. 

“So this is what human males have...” Waylon said as he took it into his hand, rubbing his thumb over the soft skin. 

“You've never seen a human penis?” Antonio asked curiously. 

“Not...a normal one...” Waylon cupped Antonio’s balls in the palm of his hand and gave them a light squeeze, which made Antonio moan slightly. “I guess it’d only be fair to show ya mine then.” 

He unbuckled his belt and then took his pants off. Antonio was expecting to see some sort of misshapen penis, but all he saw was a bulge. “Um...where is your dick?” 

“It’s a cloaca. My dick is inside; all you gotta do is get it out,” Waylon replied, using two fingers to spread open the slit. Sure enough, Antonio could see the tip of his cock. 

“Now...when it’s out...how long is it?” He asked. 

“Last time I checked, it was, I dunno, almost a foot long? Pretty thick, too. Are ya sure you don’t wanna bottom?” 

“Well... I suppose I could do it, but _only_ for you,” Antonio replied. “What do you want me to do?” 

“Just suck it like ya would for a woman. I mean, it’s almost like eating pussy, until it comes out.” 

Antonio nodded and knelt down between Waylon’s legs, spreading the slit of his cloaca apart. He flicked his tongue over the tip in quick, darting licks, and sucked the slick, pink flesh. Waylon stroked Antonio’s shaved head and pushed his face down. 

“If I had known you were this good, I would’ve asked ya to do this much sooner,” he groaned, letting Antonio coax his cock out with his tongue. He flicked it against Waylon’s tip and sucked it, even slipping his tongue into his cloaca. Waylon tasted...unique. Antonio couldn’t place his finger on it exactly but it tasted bittersweet, and Waylon was right; the rest of his cock’s length was starting to emerge, so Antonio focused on that now. He took Waylon into his mouth, his cheeks hollowed as he sucked him off. He swirled his tongue around the tip and Waylon forced Antonio’s head down to the base. The crocodile man reared his head back and a deep rumble erupted from his chest that sounded like someone was revving up a lawnmower. It made Antonio pause and look up at Waylon. 

_“¿Estás bien?”_ He asked. 

“Yeah, I just...I make noises when I’m horny...” Waylon answered. 

“Crocodile thing?” 

“Yeah.”

Antonio thought for a second and said, “Keep doing it. It’s kind of your way of moaning, I suppose, and any noise is better than _nada.” _

“You can hop on now if you want,” Waylon suggested. 

“I will,” Antonio said confidently as he climbed on top of him. He grabbed the base of Waylon’s cock and guided it into his hole as he lowered himself on it. He hissed softly as the tip presses into him and cried out when the entire length was inside. _“Oh dios mío, es gordo!” _

“I told ya, babe,” Waylon said with a smug grin. “Do you wanna take control or should I?” 

“No no, I got it,” Antonio said, putting his hands onto Waylon’s chest for support as he moved. Waylon held onto Antonio’s thighs as he bucked his hips on each thrust. 

_“Mierda, mierda...”_ Antonio moaned each time he thrust his hips down. Waylon wasn’t going easy, either; the crocodile man was pounding into him from beneath with all the strength he mustered but Antonio doesn’t care. He can take it. He’s Bane - he broke the fucking _Batman. _

The rumbling in Waylon’s chest had continued and it vibrated against Antonio’s body. Antonio took his cock into his hand and rubbed it, using his precum to make it slicker. Waylon grabbed the opportunity to fondle with his balls, tugging one of them and making Antonio yelp. 

“Did that feel good?” Waylon grunted. 

“Fuck, _sí, sí!”_ Antonio cried out. He could feel his legs becoming sore by now. His cock was throbbing, precum leaking from the tip and dripping down his shaft. Waylon wiped it with his thumb and brought it to his mouth to taste. 

“You taste so fucking delicious,” he said, taking Antonio’s cock and stroking it with one hand while massaging his balls with his other hand. It sent an overload of pleasure to Antonio and his hole clenched tightly around the base of Waylon’s cock as he came onto him. 

_“Santa mierda...”_ He moaned. He let out a gasp as Waylon turned him around and pushed him down so Antonio was lying beneath him doggy style. 

“I didn’t cum yet,” Waylon growled as he thrust into Antonio. You could hear the sound of skin slapping against skin as Waylon got himself off. Antonio clutched at the couch cushions and his head is pushed down by Waylon. The crocodile man opened his jaws and bit the nape of Antonio’s neck as he cums. His sharp teeth left a red bite mark that had a few drops of blood. 

“Good Lord, _mi amor...”_ Antonio mumbled as Waylon pulled his cock out. He twisted his body around so he could face him. “That was intense.” 

“Glad ya liked it,” Waylon said, giving him a lick. 

_“Gracias_ for showing me your cock.” Antonio chuckled. 

_“De nada.” _


	9. cockblocked - TwoRiddles

“I have never been in love like this before,” said Edward, reaching out to touch the man that laid on top of him. He lightly brushed his knuckles against the unblemished side of Harvey’s face and curled his slender fingers around a handful of black hair.

Harvey gave a light chuckle, smirking confidently at the other male. "Never?”

“I’ve always felt that love was too good for me, so I thought that it wasn’t something that I deserved. I had given up completely on the idea of love…” Edward shifted his gaze, his emerald eyes flickering away as he stared at the wall.

Harvey’s expression softened and he took Edward’s thin hand, placing a gentle kiss on the man’s knuckle. “We think that you deserve it.”

Edward looked back, green eyes meeting Harvey’s mismatched ones. He smiled warmly and said, “Didn’t need a coin to decide on that, did you?”

“For you, we could always come to an agreement,” replied Harvey, leaning down to kiss Edward’s soft lips. It was a tender kiss that made Edward feel lighter than usual, as if he would float away if Harvey weren’t laying on top of him. When their mouths parted, Harvey gazed down on the other male and let out a contented sigh. “We love seeing you like this, lying underneath us with your body displayed. It drives us wild…”

“It’s amusing how easily I can turn you on,” Edward chuckled.

“Shut up,” Harvey growled, the raspy voice of his other personality beginning to surface. It only made Edward smirk even more. “Don’t look at us like that.”

“What ever do you mean, Harvey?” he asked with a complacent grin.

“We mean that we’re gonna fuck you until you can’t walk if you don’t shut up,” Harvey growled, moving his hand to Edward’s throat. Then came the sound of Edward’s watch, beeping repeatedly.

“Rain check on that one, Harvey dear,” Edward said as he turned off his watch and squirmed out from underneath the other man.

Harvey sat up and scowled, crossing his arms. “Do you have to leave right now?” 

“Relax, I’ll be back later,” he answered as he slipped his shirt on and buttoned it up. 

Harvey grumbled in response, pouting like a stubborn child. “Fine. We love you.” 

“Love you, too, Harv.” 


End file.
